


Three Times Isabella and Sid Talked (And One Time No Words Were Necessary)

by Missy



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Background Relationships, Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:25:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4188501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sid and Isabella's friendship develops slowly over the course of their journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Times Isabella and Sid Talked (And One Time No Words Were Necessary)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ilthit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilthit/gifts).



> This fic contains spoilers for the episodes "Comedy Gold", "It's all In the Executions" And "Completely Mad...Alena."

**1:**

 

It’s midnight proper and there’s a cricket by her ear. 

Isabella isn't some prissy princess, never the sort of girl who fears herself, dodges her own shadow. She doesn’t shriek at the abrupt vibration, instead flicking the insect away with a wave of her hand, an action that forces her fully awake in the moonlight.

Rolling onto her back, staring into the darkness of the night, she's aware of the vast inky blackness of the sky - and of Galavant’s sleepy mumbling to her left and the lone mournful croak of a bullfrog somewhere in the distance.

But a certain set of sounds were missing, and she knew it. Bloody hell. Where had Sid gone?

Isabella didn’t know the young squire well yet; they’d barely been on the road for six hours before Galavant had suggested they make camp to 'preserve his beauty sleep'. The wooded glen they’d discovered together was peaceful and concealing, and so as a unit they'd ended up building a fire and arranging their bedrolls, and Isabella had fallen into a deep sleep after a meal of roasted acorns and squirrel.

 

But deep sleep was impossible now - what if Sid had gotten himself into trouble? Kidnapped by their enemies, and stood defenseless against Richard's crown? Concerned, she snuck toward the fire, trying to stay quiet and avoid waking Galavant. Lit by a small night-lantern she plunged into the depths of the glen and with due calmitude pursued the missing Squire.

She soon discovered that she apparently wasn't the only wakeful person in their makeshift little camp. She located Sid propped under a large oak tree, whittling a lovely froglike figure with his dagger under the moonlight. 

“Well there you are,” Isabella said, hands on her hips. “Did you have to run off in the middle of the night without telling us where you’d gone?! For all we knew Richard’s men had snatched you up.” 

Sid did seem a bit guilty, softening Isabella's anger. “Sorry Princess. I needed a bit of er…private time… then I got to wandering. And whittling!” He held a small, exquisitely carved figurine up for her inspection.

“Not bad. The flippers are positively intricate!” Isabella declared, noting the careful, delicate work he'd taken the trouble to create. 

“I had a lot of practice,” he admitted. “Wasn’t much to do back home when Gal was moping around. He didn’t want to train at all, barely wanted to see another living soul, so I’d write letters and cook and carve – that’s why I can also make a kicking brilliant rabbit stew.”

Her expression sharpened. “I don’t know why you put up with him,” Isabella declared. “The pig-headed, foolish, stubborn…”

“….smart, good-looking and noble guy?”

She frowned. “There’s no need to flatter him when he’s asleep.”

Sid grinned. “I’m not flattering him! When I was younger Gal was the bravest and strongest knight in the realm. People were crawling over each other to be named his squire and I’m so lucky to have won.”

“Luck doesn’t…wait a minute.” she tilted her head. “How did he end up choosing you?”

“It’s a long story,” he said, re-sheathing his knife and admiring the frog one more time before tucking it into his pocket. “I’ll tell you about it some day,” he promised. “But it’s too late to do much more. Whatsay we head back to camp?”

“Lets,” she said, aware suddenly of the lateness of the hour, and the way her body yearned for a few more hours of rest. Sid climbed to his feet and held out a hand for Isabella – he’d gone into escort mode immediately, and she confessed to herself that she appreciated the extra support.

They soon emerged from the copse of trees into the moonlight a few feet from the camp. “One thing, Princess?”

“Yes?” 

“Don’t tell Galavant I can carve,” said Sid cheerfully. “You know how he feels about being better at something than anyone else.”

She didn’t, but Isabella had a feeling she’d learn soon enough.

 

**2:**

 

Isabella had to give the pirates credit; not only were they exemplary singers, they could tie knots tighter than the smartest sheepshanker in Valencia. Working on her bonds calmly, she tossed a look – first at Galavant, who had walked off into the middle distance with Pete, then at Sid, who was contentedly discussing the realm's current events with one of the midshipmen. 

“…And they say the Queen’s having a go with three out of four of the royal pillow fluffers,” said the pirate, tsking. “Sometimes twice a night!”

“Scandalous!” remarked Sid, pretending to lean in closer.

“There’s been whispers she ain’t all there – talks to her mirrors at night. You sure you want your liege lord throwing his lot in with a dame like that?”

“Confidentially, I…” Sid peeked over his shoulder and leaned in closer. Whatever he’d planned to say to the pirate was interrupted as Gal walked over the crest of the hill, Pete held securely at swordpoint. Sid let out a huge sigh of relief. “There he is! I thought I’d have to start lying my head off.” He gently elbowed Isabella. “I don’t even know any of the latest royal gossip. What were you going to do if they didn’t believe me?” 

Isabella grinned and held up her untied hands, to his obvious surprise. “Start punching,” she said sweetly.

 

**3:**

 

The lush warmth of the Monk’s private cells brought Isabella comfort. Her soul was troubled by the secrets she kept, and even with the head confessor’s absolution she couldn’t quite find peace.

Sid came through the door suddenly, disturbing her thoughts and wearing a dark brown robe of the order. “These really are comfortable,” he said and tugged lightly at his own sleeve. Then he noticed the way she hanged her head and asked, “is everything okay Isabella?”

She supposed living in synchronicity with him for a week entitled him to call her by her first name. She eyeballed him. “How well can you keep a secret?”

“Ask Galavant,” he said. “Nobody knows he threw up on the village bard when he was three…until now.”

Isabella patted the spot beside her. “It’s a really long story,” she said. “Do you have time to listen?”

“Galavant’s busy planning Madalena’s rescue,” he said. “But I’m free.”

And with that, Isabella closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and told him everything.

 

 **4:**

 

Gareth was taking them somewhere. Isabella had no idea of her eventual locale, but she knew trouble lay ahead. It was very likely that they might not see each other again – worse, that she might never see Galavant again.

She looked to her right and there he was – loyal Sid, friendly Sid, a closer and truer friend she’d yet to meet in her short time on the planet. 

At a hairpin turn in the stairwell, she quickly cornered him and plucked the carved frog from her skirt pocket. Then, gently, she folded his fingers around the ornament.

“When you see Gal again give him this and tell him you saw me alive.” 

They didn’t need further words. He squeezed her hand. “I’ll do it for you, princess,” he said.

And the loyalty between them was just as strong, just as unmistakable, as Isabella's determination to survive. Survive, and see both Sid and Gal again.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it, Ilthit! I considered multiple ideas, but in the end Sid and Izzy's friendship won the day!


End file.
